


Someone has to be in charge, and turns out it's not Alec Hardy

by Kaz_Langston



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Bottom Alec, Established Relationship, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 23:43:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21187967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaz_Langston/pseuds/Kaz_Langston
Summary: Alec and Ellie are getting a little more adventurous these days.





	Someone has to be in charge, and turns out it's not Alec Hardy

For her birthday, they have a barbeque in the park, her and the kids and Hardy and the Latimers and a few other friends.

Beth Latimer gives her a wink as she hands over the gift bag. "Give him a good seeing to, yeah?"

It's a decent bottle of wine and a small parcel in gaudy paper that rattles when she shakes it. Beth laughs and pushes it gently back in the bag when she goes to open it. When she finds it many hours later, cheeks sore from laughter and the wind, she rips it open to see a pair of handcuffs, bright red fluffy things - hardly police issue - and she laughs bright and loud. Harder, Hardy, indeed. She doesn't know if Beth's spotted it already between them, or if it's just a silly joke between friends, but she's all watchful eyes these days and Ellie feels that even if it's just a joke it has a trickle of the truth to it.

She shows them to Hardy that evening, laughing as she dangles them off a finger and raises a suggestive eyebrow.

"You can't be serious," Alec says, eyes wide and disbelieving.

She wants to put them away, tuck them under the bed and forget about it, but something in the way his eyes flicker from the stupid fluffy things to her face and back again, more uncertain than she's seen him in a long time, gives her pause. Something curls in her gut.

"Ooh you want to!"

He fends her off with a scowl, brushes past her to do his teeth.

"So will you be wearing them or will I?"

"Miller," he warns, his Scottish burr strong, and she knows she's getting to him.

"I'll just tuck them away under the bed, shall I?" Safely hidden in a box, well out of the way of toddler hands.

He protests when she presses light kisses to his chest, but not much, and later she finds the silly things stowed in her bedside drawer.

*-*-*-*-*

She wears the cuffs once, then him a few weeks later, but hearing the jingle of the metal makes it feel too much like work, and they're quickly abandoned.

All the same, they take tentative steps towards something more, her doing most of the pushing - of course it's her, that nudges them further down this path, he just follows where she leads, but they walk it together, him cautious and hopeful and ever willing.

I can do better, he promises in the dark, his voice low against her skin. I'll be rougher next time.

She doesn't want rougher, she wants controlled, she wants to be taken apart and put back together again, out of sight of the world. His cautious hands speak of strength restrained and she wants that released on her, in their private darkness.

She thinks, as she lies sated-but-not-quite in the dark beside him, sod this. One of us is going to have to be in charge here and it's not bloody Hardy, all big brown eyes and gruffness and soft mushy soul too big for his skinny chest. Take him apart instead, she vows, and that feels right.

The next time, as his hands roam over her naked skin, pressing open mouthed kisses rough against her softness, she pushes him lower with firm strength, holds his head close. His clever tongue is silenced against her, just as quicksilver wicked as it always is, wringing pleasure in slow waves. She'd known he'd be good at this even before their first time, so desperate to be good, to please - she'd thought about it sometimes, late at night, a secret pleasure she refused to feel guilty about but always avoided his eyes the next day just in case he could tell.

He drags her orgasm from her with bold tongue and clever fingers, and as she pants he moves away, wiping at his face. "Did I say you could stop?" she huffs out.

He's disbelieving for a second, one long fingered hand resting, still slick, on her thigh. Eventually, he rumbles out, "no," and she has a moment of cold fear where she thinks already she's pushed too far - but it's in answer to her question, this is nothing, just round two, and the fear drifts away when his mouth returns to her.

She twists her hands in his hair and sobs as she chases the high again, rolling against his fingers and pulling his head closer, rutting against that clever tongue. She likes Alec Hardy mute, loves him when he moans against her clit. "So good," she breathes out, "so good, yes, oh yes so _good-_" She clenches around him, fluttering and tensing, sobbing again as it rolls over her.

"Think you crushed my ears, woman," he grumbles, rubbing at them, but she's too exhausted to care, and she's known him long enough to know it's meaningless, an instinctive defensive complaint when he's secretly a bit proud of what he can do to her.

She gets her breath back, half laughing with the tingling joy of it, and pulls him close. She's too tired to ride him, thighs still trembling, but he's hard against her leg as he lies half over her. "Please," he asks, eyes liquid in the dark, "please Ellie, can I..."

His groan as she guides him inside is beautiful, and she laces her arms together around his skinny shoulders, her legs around his scant waist.

His cock's as long as the rest of him, but that's where the resemblance ends - she can feel him pressing her open, sliding deeper, even two orgasms in it's something of a stretch, and she tugs him close to bury her head in the crook of his neck, biting a little at the firm swell of the muscle until he shivers; bites harder until he groans out her name in protest, and she loosens her teeth, licking and kissing in half hearted apology. He'll like the marks too, tomorrow.

"Alec," she whispers, then again because she can hardly think of anything else, "Alec, Alec, yes."

He rolls his hips, obedient, shallow thrusts now when he's so deep, more grinding against her than anything else, pulling aftershocks from her clit and groaning at the twitches it sends through her tired muscles as she tightens around him.

It's not long before his thrusts become erratic. A high cry winds its way between his clenched teeth as she pulls his head back with a twist of her hand in his hair. She kisses his bared scruffy throat, soothing, and untangles her fingers, letting his head fall forward onto the pillow beside her, his mouth open against her collarbone. He presses damp kisses into her skin, huffs wordless sounds into her, before finally groaning and pulling away. "You're far too good at that."

She resists the urge to grin smugly. Well, mostly.

Staring at the ceiling, she gives him a minute to catch his breath, and herself a minute to gather her nerves. "Alec." It's a statement and a question rolled into one.

"Ellie." His voice is dry. Post-coital soppiness never lasts long.

"I want to try a strap on."

Silence. Then, "What, now?"

"Not now! God, no, I'm knackered. Just some time."

She hears him swallow, throat clicking. "Yeah. Ok."

*-*-*-*-*

It's another fortnight before they're properly alone again, kids left with various responsible adults. Other than some furtive hand holding, kisses exchanged on the sofa late at night, there's been nothing to soothe the churning anticipation in her gut, and the parcel that turned up midweek, plain brown box with a plain white label, certainly hasn't helped.

Alec isn't a detective for nothing, attentive to everything, including her inability to settle. She's fussing with the corner of the sofa cushion, pulling at a loose thread and eventually twisting the fabric as they watch some awful tv show - her choice not his, but unusually bad for all that - and finish their wine. The detritus of a proper adult meal, salmon skin left on her plate, a pool of butter and a lone potato left on his, not a chicken kiev in sight, rests on the table.

"Will y' stop that!" His voice makes her jump, and she drops the thread.

"Sorry," she mumbles guiltily, and they sit in silence.

A cool hand slides across the sofa to rest on her knee, an apology of his own. She covers it with her warm palm, before standing with a stiff groan, not letting go. "Come on. Let's go to bed. Don't have to sleep yet."

He looks to the plates, and she squeezes his hand. "They'll still be there in the morning."

Hesitation, then acquiescence. TV off, lights off, they head upstairs. Ellie throws a grin at him as he trails up the stairs behind her, polite enough to let her go first but not polite enough to avert his eyes from her bottom as it sways in front of him.

"I'm first!" She announces, and Alec grumbles.

"Could've done the plates."

First into the bathroom means she has time after while he washes, and she drags the purchase out from her bedside drawer. Stripped down to bra and nothing else, she pulls at the straps, up one leg then the other, tugging them tight.

The sink shuts off with a clunk of pipes and she swears, but then it's all settled in place and she can turn and face the door.

Alec pushes the door open, words dying on his lips as he breaches the room.

Hands on her hips, Ellie waits. And waits. Before her confidence completely deserts her, she demands, "Well?"

"Christ, Miller." His voice is high and breathy, his eyes tracking up and down her body, catching on the space between her legs where the usual dark thatch is hidden away.

The straps go round her thighs, then low on her hips, pulling together towards the contraption at the front, a soft latex triangle with the - the _cock_ at the centre.

Ellie can feel her cheeks start to redden. "Is it ok? I can take it off-"

"No, god, no, you look..." It's been a long while since she's seen Alec truly speechless; far longer since the sight of her nearly naked body left someone mute. He blows air out between pursed lips, his tongue flicking out nervously. "You look good."

_Good_. God, she could kill him sometimes. Good thing actions speak louder than words; she can see the hardness in his trousers, and it gives her the strength to hold out a hand, gesture him close.

He stumbles closer, eyes fixed on the black silicon, and reaches out a hand to touch. It's somehow surprising that she doesn't feel it when his fingertips brush the tip. He looks hypnotised.

"It's smaller than I thought it would be."

"Didn't want to put you off first time."

It's not huge, yes, but all the same it isn't exactly small, perhaps under six inches, and her index finger and thumb only just touch around it. It's not quite realistic, curves in the wrong places, but on the description it read 'designed for prostate stimulation', which sounded about right.

His eyebrows raise. "First time, huh?"

"I just meant - wait, have you done this before?" Sly sod, he's kept that one quiet! All her nerves for nothing.

"What? No, I just meant - you - want to - more than once?"

Christ he's useless sometimes. Suddenly her nerves are half gone. "Maybe? Let's just see how this goes first, yeah?"

"Yeah. Yeah, alright."

Alec steps closer, until he can gently press their lips together, dry and chaste. He chokes out a laugh and reaches a hand down to adjust the toy where it digs into his thigh, aiming it upwards. When he presses their bodies together she can feel the tip of it peeking above the harness; it still carves a ridge into his skin. "This is weird," she says.

"Bit gay."

"Yeah."

Still, it doesn't seem to slow him down, now they've got the logistics out of the way. A tongue teases at her lips, asking for more; sharp teeth tug gently. He pulls her close, long arms wrapping tight. He's still got his shirt on, though the tie is long gone - at least she's managed to train him out of wearing it all evening - and the feel of cotton against the bare skin of her back sends thrills down her spine. He undoes her bra, eases it down off her shoulders, and her bare breasts against his shirt make her shiver again.

They stumble towards the bed, Ellie bumping into it and falling helplessly with a laugh before shuffling inelegantly towards the pillows, the cock standing up and bobbing obscenely. Alec stares down at her for a second before wrestling off his shirt, only bothering with the top two buttons before hauling it over his head, struggling with the cuffs. The socks and trousers go too; he has a moment's intransigence and then the boxers follow suit, puddling in a pile on the floor.

He creeps onto the bed on all fours, a surprisingly sultry crawl, stopping at her waist. Ellie gives him a minute to stare, entranced. "Go on then."

He looks up. "Go on then, what?"

She can't say it. Instead, she raises a meaningful eyebrow and nods. Meaningfully.

"Oh!" He looks back down. Contemplates the silicone. Leans forward and delicately kisses the tip with sealed lips, his gaze flickering up to hers. His cheeks are pink, but something about her expression encourages him, and he goes back again, lips parted as the tip slips inside.

It's an astoundingly erotic sight, Alec between her legs with his lips wrapped around her strap on, dark eyes intensely fixed on hers.

He sinks deeper then gags suddenly, pulling his head back with a cough and a disgusted look. "Harder than it looks."

She holds back a laugh at the double entendre. He probably didn't have a clue. "It takes practice, you know! I've not always been this good."

He makes a vaguely Scottish noise of disappointment at not being immediately brilliant at it, and squirms upwards to plant kisses on her cheeks and nose and forehead until she swats him away. "Right. What's the plan?"

"Ok. Uh. Lie on your back? I'm going to..." Oh God, she's going to die of embarrassment before they get anywhere. Pull yourself together, woman! "I'm going to get you ready. With lube. And fingers. In you. Is that ok?" Christ.

Alec doesn't answer, too busy rolling off her and arranging himself on the bed, feet flat against the duvet. He smiles up at her, and it's probably supposed to be reassuring but he's as nervous as she is and it shows.

She settles between his legs, the lube close at hand. She's gratified to see he's hard, but gives him a few gentle strokes for good measure. A generous dollop of lube on the tip of her middle finger, and she strokes down his cock, past his balls, along the ridge at the base back to the cleft of his arse. The strong muscles - gluteus maximus? Minimus? - of his cheeks tense as her finger slides across his entrance, and she circles there, testing the pressure, just pushing lightly to feel the give.

"'s good," he slurs. "Y' can push in if you want."

She does want - so with another squeeze of lube she presses forward, just breaching him. He's tight around her and she wonders briefly if even her small fingers will fit, never mind the toy.

Finger still, she leans forward, mouthing at his cock, gently taking it in with far more skill than he'd displayed. A few bobs of her head and the muscles loosen a little around her finger, and she presses forward, thankful for the lube, easing gently back and forth. Suddenly her finger is deeper, sliding almost effortlessly into him; he cries out and his cock twitches in her mouth.

She leans back enough to speak. "Good?"

"Mhm."

"Good." She returns her mouth to him, still moving her finger inside, thrilled at the quiet moans even this is wringing from him.

Eventually, she thinks there's enough room for a second finger, so she slides her index finger alongside, and breaches him with both at once.

Immediately there's a yelp, and the rim clenches around her. "Wait wait wait, just - ah!"

"Shit - sorry!" She darent move.

A few deep breaths, air huffing through his nose, and he eventually loosens. "Ok," he breathes out, "Ok."

"Maybe this is a bad idea."

"Fuck's sake, Miller, don't go backing out now, you've not even got it in me yet." It sounds a little forced, but when she looks up his eyes are soft.

She moves her fingers experimentally, easing out and in again, and his eyes drift closed, head falling back on the pillow. "'s good," he hums. "What you're doing - 's good." The rim is still tight, but manageable, and both fingers fit. She twists them, then curls them towards her, searching for - _there_. A difference in the feel of him, a texture unlike the rest. She strokes over it with both fingertips and Alec groans, hips edging forward.

She does it again, and again, dragging over it until he's writhing helplessly against her hand, his precum bitter but not unpleasant in her mouth.

"Stop - Ellie, stop -"

There's an apology on her lips before she's even let go of his cock, but it's not needed.

"Just get on wi' it, or it'll be over." His lips quirk up in a half smile, unashamed at his own arousal.

"Roll over then, on your knees." She swallows hard at how pliable he is, how willing, as he twists and positions himself on all fours.

Presented, his arse is firm, more muscled now after a few years of post-heart problem walking. She's dragged him up hill and down dale, and it shows. She palms both cheeks, easing them apart to get a better look at his slick entrance; teases one finger back inside just to see what it looks like from this new, more obscene angle. It's hardly any stretch at all now, just tight heat surrounding her.

"Miller!"

"That's the third time you've called me that, thought you were going to try and stop?" She withdraws, though, rising up on her knees behind him.

Great lanky bastard that he is, there's no way she's going to reach. Hands on his hips guide him lower, legs spread and arse forward just a little. "Lean - just - yeah, that's better."

He's in the right place now, arse just level with her hips, and she grips the toy with a trembling hand, guiding it into place until it just nudges at his entrance. A last generous smear of lube - her furtive internet research had been _very_ clear - and she leans forward oh so slowly, a hand on his hip to keep him steady as she presses inside.

He doesn't make a sound, and his head hangs low. Ellie runs a hand across his back soothingly. "Ok?"

She gets a vaguely affirmative sounding grunt in return, which doesn't inspire confidence. There's a flush spreading at the base of his neck. "Just say if you need to stop."

Unbidden, he pushes back against her, and it slides in another inch. There's a short breath beneath her, cut off sharply. "Alec?"

"'m fine. Just give me a sec, it feels - weird."

She gives him a second, and another fifty nine with it, then eases backwards and in again. It feels like less resistance, though it's hard to tell, and she sinks deeper. Out, in. Little rolls of her hips, a slightly awkward unnatural movement compared to what she's used to, drawing little bitten-off gasps from him, out and in again and again in tiny increments until suddenly she finds herself pressed up against his arse. "There!" She says triumphantly. Then, "Oh, wow, ok," as it dawns on her that's she's effectively balls-deep in Alec Hardy's arse. "You alright?"

"Yeah, 'm good. Y' can move."

Both hands on his hips, she backs almost all the way out before sliding back in, a slow steady glide. Alec groans, a deep guttural noise that makes her clench around nothing, clit tingling.

"Still ok?

"Yeah - yes - fuck, that feels - _fuck_!"

She thinks that's good.

A little faster now, pulling him back against her as she rocks forward, using his weight to drive him back onto her cock.

"There! Fuck, there, oh!" He's loud - he's _never_ loud - so she does the same thing again, trying to angle the toy down a little to hit what must be his prostate.

When her legs tire, embarrassingly quickly, she drapes against his back, wrapping a hand around his cock. It's rock solid and dripping, and she spreads the precome along his length, stroking more gently than she knows he likes. She has no desire to hurry this along.

Once her legs have recovered a little, she straightens up, scratching down his back with both hands to make him yelp and squirm, writhing against her as she rocks forward.

She wants to say something filthy but her usual clever dirty talk has abandoned her, so she babbles something about how gorgeous he is, how good, how lovely, each compliment matched with another roll of her hips.

Sweat's beading on both of them, their breath coming in gasps, when she finally calls a halt and pulls away. "I'm done," she gasps out, flopping down, "My legs are killing me!"

Alec stretches out his long, long legs, lowering himself to the mattress. There's a bright flush from his neck to the sharp blades of his shoulders, and the mirrored scratches are bold down each side.

They lie panting for a minute before he peels himself off the sheets. "Sit up."

Alright, she can manage that. Probably.

Backed up against the headboard, softened with a pillow, Ellie spreads her legs a little, fumbles between them and under the harness for her clit. She needs _more_; the strap on isn't really designed for her own stimulation but she's dripping wet all the same, days of anticipation and Alec's eager responsiveness driving her to the brink; the nub is sensitive, swollen, and it won't take much. She circles her fingers, dipping into herself to bring back slickness.

Alec watches her with half lidded eyes, before reaching a hand between her thighs, spreading her wide with two long elegant fingers. He twists and curls in her as her own fingers slide frantically across her clit, not too hard but just - just - _just_ -

She comes with a half silenced groan, and he lets her ride it out, waiting until she sighs and her toes uncurl before pulling away his fingers and straddling her hips. The strap on sits, incongruous, alongside his cock. He lifts himself up and forward, one hand over her shoulder on the headboard, the other holding the toy as he hovers above it.

Slowly he eases down, guiding the strap on inside. He drops down faster than she would have dared to push, but his face twists in pleasure, head tipping back as he groans.

His thighs tense again, and he lifts himself up almost to the tip before stopping, waiting, teasing himself with the snub end of it, then sliding back down with a rumble of pleasure. She gives him a few minutes to torment himself, both hands on the headboard and his cock leaking on her stomach. Occasionally he bites his lip in concentration.

Eventually he opens his eyes and looks down at her. Ellie reaches up and brushes the hair from his sweaty forehead as he sits there, swollen mouth half open, chest heaving. "Alec Hardy, you are a beautiful man," she says, and he gives her a wild grin, pupils blown wide, then leans forward to give her a clumsy kiss. "And you, Ellie Miller, are a genius."

"Not just a pretty face then?" Rather than waiting for a fumbling answer she pumps her hips up hard, driving up into him, and he groans deep and low.

He opens his mouth to speak and she does it again, and again, until he stops trying to speak and starts lifting himself up again and dropping down to meet her, each thrust drawing a gasp until he reaches down a hand to wrap it around his cock.

"Don't you _dare_," she hisses, and he snatches his hand back.

"Ellie, I can't - I can't -" he whines and she takes pity on him.

"Up then, on your knees again."

Alec scrambles to obey, his cock red and weeping, hanging heavy between his legs. Kneeling behind him, she lines up again, sinking deep with no resistance.

She lays a hand between his shoulder blades. He resists for a second, unsure, then dips obligingly, head and chest on the bed and arse in the air, one arm curled under his head and the other flung carelessly across the bed. His easy submission makes her swear and drive her hips forward in two quick snaps, drawing a whine from him, a needy desperate sound, and she needs to hear it again - she thrusts hard as she pulls him back onto her, and he sobs out his pleasure, free hand gripping in the sheets as he arches his back.

He's bucking back against her, desperate half noises a rising crescendo. She makes out _yes_ and _please_ and _Ellie_, before finally reaching down to his cock.

She's barely touched him when he cries out, cock jerking in her hand as he spills violently across the sheets, and she strokes her free hand soothingly across his back as he comes for long seconds.

When he's finally through, she pulls back gently, and he makes a last tragic sound, oversensitive and wrung out. He slumps down, swiping a quick hand across his face, and curls up naked on his side, not bothering to pull up the duvet.

"Back in a sec," she promises.

She's not long but when she returns his eyes are glazed and half shut; when she nudges him awake he drapes himself on her, all scruff and sharp angled limbs, practically purring.

"Alright for a first time, then?"

"Aye, was alright." He grins sleepily at her, dark eyes soft. "Might be a fluke though."

"Better try again to be sure." She strokes a hand through his hair; presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Go and wash, you're a state."

Grumbling, Alec does as instructed, snatching his boxers from the floor as he stumbles away with the unfamiliar feeling of lube between his legs. He snorts out a laugh at the sight of the strap on drying neatly on the side of the bathtub, a peculiar decoration.

She's dressed in pajamas and asleep under the covers when he returns, damp and smelling of soap.

He turns off the light and slips in beside her, resting a possessive hand on her hip.

"Love you," he whispers, and closes his eyes.


End file.
